Valkyries also had magic, hence all the sparks flickering around us and in other spots in the dining hall where the girls were sitting. Every time Daphne's French-manicured nails scraped against something or she got particularly emotional, little princess pink sparks would shoot off her fingertips and fill the air. Daphne had once told me that her fingers were like sparklers on the Fourth of July. I didn't mind the cracks and flashes of color, though. Sitting next to her was like being close to a rainbow. Well, if rainbows were solid pink. And volatile. Sometimes Daphne's temper flared up almost as much as the sparks did.
Daphne's magic hadn't quickened, or manifested, yet, but once it did, she'd have even more power. Valkyries had all sorts of magical abilities, like being able to heal people, control the weather, and even create illusions.
I shivered. I'd learned that last one the hard way a few weeks ago, when Jasmine Ashton, another one of the rich Valkyrie princesses at Mythos, had summoned up an illusion of a Nemean prowler to try to kill me. If you believed in an illusion, it could hurt you-even kill you-like the real thing. The prowler-a big, black, pantherlike monster- would have ripped me to shreds if Logan hadn't stabbed it to death, causing the illusion to vanish.
Maybe I had my own twisted kind of power today, because as soon as I thought about Logan, he stepped through the door of the dining hall-with Savannah right beside him. No doubt Logan had come here to grab some breakfast before classes started, just like I had. The Spartan had showered and changed since I'd last seen him in the gym, and his black hair was still damp. He'd traded in his T-shirt and sweatpants for acid-washed jeans, a blue sweater, and a black leather jacket that outlined his muscled shoulders. He looked totally sexy.
I watched Logan wind his way through the dining hall, past the oil paintings of various mythological feasts that covered the walls, and the polished suits of armor that stood guard beneath them. He led Savannah to a table not too far away from where Daphne and I were sitting. Like all the others, the table was covered with creamy white linens, dainty china, and a heavy crystal vase full of fresh poppies, hyacinths, and narcissus flowers.
The table also had the advantage of being right next to the open-air indoor garden that stood in the middle of the dining hall. Grape vines twisted through the area, winding their way over, around, and sometimes through the thick branches of the olive, orange, and almond trees planted in the black soil there. Marble statues of Demeter, Dionysus, and other gods and goddesses could be seen in various spots in the garden, their heads facing out and their eyes open, as though they were watching the students eat the bounty of the harvests they represented.
Logan and Savannah might as well have been eating in a romantic restaurant. The ambience was pretty much the same-especially given the dreamy way the two of them stared into each other's eyes.
Daphne realized that I wasn't paying attention to her anymore and turned around to see what I was looking at. Her pretty face softened with knowing sympathy, which made me feel even worse.
"Did I mention that it's not just Mythos students who will be at the carnival?" Daphne asked. "Lots of kids from the New York academy will be there too."
I blinked. "There are more academies out there? I thought this was the only school for warriors."
"Oh, no. There's a school up in New York and one out in Denver. Paris, London, Athens-there are lots of Mythos branches around the world, although the one here at Cypress Mountain is the biggest and the best."
"Really? Why's that?"
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Because it's the one we go to, silly. Plus, we've got the Library of Antiquities. None of the other branches has a library like ours, especially not one with as many artifacts."
At the academy, students learned about gods, goddesses, warriors, myths, magic, and monsters from every culture in the world-Greek, Norse, Roman, Japanese, Chinese, Native American, Egyptian, Indian, Russian, Irish, African, and all the others out there. I supposed it made sense there would be other branches, other schools, located throughout the world.
"Anyway," Daphne said. "My point is that there will be some new blood there. Some of the guys from the New York academy are supercute. I flirted with a couple of them myself during last year's carnival. Plus, most of their parents have mansions in the Hamptons, which is a great place to go for spring and summer breaks."
"Cute guys, huh?" I asked, still staring at Logan.
"Tonsof them," Daphne promised. "I'm sure we can find you somebody to hook up with for the weekend. Somebody to take your mind off other… things."
I sighed. It had been weeks since I'd asked out Logan and he'd rejected me, but my feelings for him hadn't changed one bit. I didn't know what would take my mind off the sexy Spartan, except for maybe a total lobotomy.
"So what do you say, Gwen?" Daphne asked. "Are you ready to have some fun?"
Savannah threw back her head and laughed at something Logan said. The soft, happy sound zipped across the room like a spear, burying itself in my skull.
"I'll think about it," I promised my best friend.
Then I grabbed my stuff, got up, and left the dining hall, so I wouldn't have to see the happy couple eat breakfast together.
Chapter 3
Despite my sour mood, the day passed by with its usual mix of classes, lectures, and boring homework assignments. The last bell rang after sixth period, and I headed outside, along with the other students.
It was early December, and I pulled my purple plaid coat a little tighter around my body, trying to keep warm. Even though it was midafternoon, the sun's rays did little to penetrate the thick, heavy, gray clouds that cloaked the sky, and my breath frosted in the air, like a stream of icicles before flowing away to the ground. Winter had already spread its chilly blanket over North Carolina for the season. That's where the academy was located, in Cypress Mountain, a suburb tucked up in the mountains above the artsy town of Asheville.
You could tell Mythos was a place for rich kids just by walking around campus. All of the buildings were made out of old, dark, gray stone covered with curling coils of ivy, and every single one of the perfectly manicured lawns sported a thick layer of grass, despite the cold. Plus, the open quad that lay in the middle of campus looked like something you'd see in a brochure for an expensive college-lots of curving, cobblestone walkways; lots of iron benches; lots of shade trees.
In a way, Mythos Academy was a kind of college, since the students ranged from the first-years, who were sixteen, all the way up to the sixth-year kids, who were twenty-one. Since I was seventeen, I was a second-year student, which meant I had roughly four and a half more years to go before I'd graduate. Oh, goody.
The main quad spread out like a picnic blanket that had been thrown across the top of a grassy hill overlooking the rest of the lush academy grounds. I stepped onto one of the ash gray cobblestone paths that led down to the lower quads, where the student dorms and other smaller outbuildings dotted the landscape. All around me the other students headed down to their dorms or back up the hill to attend whatever after-school clubs, sports, or activities they were involved in. Not me, though. I hadn't joined any clubs, and I wasn't coordinated enough to play any sports, especially not at Mythos. Everyone was so much faster, stronger, and tougher than I was, thanks to their ancient warrior genes and the magic that went along with them.